LindaBabe
DIS Legend
- Joined
- Oct 20, 1999
- Messages
- 10,205
Every so often, a thread comes up a person's comfort level with dining alone in Disney restaurants.
This blog post seems to address the subject perfectly.
"Eating Alone" or "Meditative Mindfulness"?
Dec. 16, 2009 8:50 pm
Updated: Dec. 18, 2009 5:53 pm
"Youre eating by yourself? my younger colleague asked, slightly astonished.
I certainly am, I replied enthusiastically, although the question had me astonished as well.
We had just finished our meeting in the other room, and I was strolling purposefully toward the hostess stand at Pappas Bros Steakhouse.
I guess there was a time long ago when I would have felt strange walking into a four-star restaurant and asking for a table for one. That was before I went on extended business trips alone and before I had a family and other responsibilities that consume much of my free time. The dinner was my special treat. I was going to milk it for all it was worth. In fact, I was going to practice meditative mindfulness.
Meditative mindfulness is a Buddhist practice where teachers instruct students how to calm their minds by simply becoming aware of everything that passes through their attention. Its pretty easy to do that at a beautiful restaurant, where the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes are sensory nirvana. Practicing mindfulness as you eat is also a good way to get as much bang for your buck as possible. (Its probably not very good Buddhism, though, since Buddhist philosophy considers greed to be a poison. I can be kind of greedy, I suppose.)
Anyway, I sat down at the long, gleaming counter that was only a few feet away from the impeccably clean kitchen, settling into meditative mindfulness. It was still early, and my server was particularly attentive and conversational. We talked about wines, tossed around ideas about what I should drink, and finally settled on a glass of my favorite Roederer champagne. Later, I ordered my meal, and then I was free to revel in the ballet before me.
Everyone buzzed about in their clean, white uniforms, focusing their attention on dozens of small tasks, such as dusting an appetizer with fresh parmesan or folding a napkin into a perfect rectangle. Although they were busy, you could also see a certain level of camaraderie between them, making me think of them as high-performing team where everyone works together for the best outcome. The way they crank out all those scrumptious steaks, appetizers, sides, and desserts every night is no accident.
My appetizer arrivedfat scallops perched on a buttery slice of French bread, embraced by a blanket of crisp bacon. I doubt anyone in the history of humankind has ever relished scallops more. I chewed them slowly, experiencing each succulent morsel as a revelation. I took my sweet time with those scallops, and I was sorry when they were gone.
Fortunately, my luscious, beefy, fork-tender filet mignon arrived to replace my devoured scallops, along with some blanched asparagus spears the size of small trees. It goes without saying that the steak was magnificentthe brush of crusty-seared pepper on the outside, the moist, pink center melting in my mouth. But the mint-green asparagus stood on its own because it was super fresh and cooked to a perfect crisp-tenderness. The texture of everything was remarkable, and I was paying close attention.
When servers and other staff asked me how I was doing, I told them that they should only allow people who appreciate good food at least as much as I do to eat at their restaurant. They laughed.
As if the fabulous food werent enough, I had the amazing good fortune to be treated to a behind-the-scenes look by the general manager. To me, a foodie in training, that was the equivalent of a Beatles fan going backstage at a Paul McCartney concert. I was delirious with delight. (Seriously, I had trouble falling asleep that night after all the excitement.) I also got a taste of each of their fabulous sides, and all of them are a tour de force in their own right. The crab meat macaroni and cheese is pure pasta bliss.
So I ask you: would you mind going for an hour-long massage alone, or sitting alone in a hot, bubbly bath of lavender water with the lights turned down and soft music playing? Probably not. Im suggesting that you can have just as much relaxation and enjoyment from going to a great restaurant alone and totally surrendering to the experience.
Make a pledge now to join the Eat Mindfully and Alone club. Actually, that sounds like a fine New Years Resolution.
Visit my blog at www.rebeccamarmaduke.com. "
I found it on Allrecipes.com
This blog post seems to address the subject perfectly.
"Eating Alone" or "Meditative Mindfulness"?
Dec. 16, 2009 8:50 pm
Updated: Dec. 18, 2009 5:53 pm
"Youre eating by yourself? my younger colleague asked, slightly astonished.
I certainly am, I replied enthusiastically, although the question had me astonished as well.
We had just finished our meeting in the other room, and I was strolling purposefully toward the hostess stand at Pappas Bros Steakhouse.
I guess there was a time long ago when I would have felt strange walking into a four-star restaurant and asking for a table for one. That was before I went on extended business trips alone and before I had a family and other responsibilities that consume much of my free time. The dinner was my special treat. I was going to milk it for all it was worth. In fact, I was going to practice meditative mindfulness.
Meditative mindfulness is a Buddhist practice where teachers instruct students how to calm their minds by simply becoming aware of everything that passes through their attention. Its pretty easy to do that at a beautiful restaurant, where the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes are sensory nirvana. Practicing mindfulness as you eat is also a good way to get as much bang for your buck as possible. (Its probably not very good Buddhism, though, since Buddhist philosophy considers greed to be a poison. I can be kind of greedy, I suppose.)
Anyway, I sat down at the long, gleaming counter that was only a few feet away from the impeccably clean kitchen, settling into meditative mindfulness. It was still early, and my server was particularly attentive and conversational. We talked about wines, tossed around ideas about what I should drink, and finally settled on a glass of my favorite Roederer champagne. Later, I ordered my meal, and then I was free to revel in the ballet before me.
Everyone buzzed about in their clean, white uniforms, focusing their attention on dozens of small tasks, such as dusting an appetizer with fresh parmesan or folding a napkin into a perfect rectangle. Although they were busy, you could also see a certain level of camaraderie between them, making me think of them as high-performing team where everyone works together for the best outcome. The way they crank out all those scrumptious steaks, appetizers, sides, and desserts every night is no accident.
My appetizer arrivedfat scallops perched on a buttery slice of French bread, embraced by a blanket of crisp bacon. I doubt anyone in the history of humankind has ever relished scallops more. I chewed them slowly, experiencing each succulent morsel as a revelation. I took my sweet time with those scallops, and I was sorry when they were gone.
Fortunately, my luscious, beefy, fork-tender filet mignon arrived to replace my devoured scallops, along with some blanched asparagus spears the size of small trees. It goes without saying that the steak was magnificentthe brush of crusty-seared pepper on the outside, the moist, pink center melting in my mouth. But the mint-green asparagus stood on its own because it was super fresh and cooked to a perfect crisp-tenderness. The texture of everything was remarkable, and I was paying close attention.
When servers and other staff asked me how I was doing, I told them that they should only allow people who appreciate good food at least as much as I do to eat at their restaurant. They laughed.
As if the fabulous food werent enough, I had the amazing good fortune to be treated to a behind-the-scenes look by the general manager. To me, a foodie in training, that was the equivalent of a Beatles fan going backstage at a Paul McCartney concert. I was delirious with delight. (Seriously, I had trouble falling asleep that night after all the excitement.) I also got a taste of each of their fabulous sides, and all of them are a tour de force in their own right. The crab meat macaroni and cheese is pure pasta bliss.
So I ask you: would you mind going for an hour-long massage alone, or sitting alone in a hot, bubbly bath of lavender water with the lights turned down and soft music playing? Probably not. Im suggesting that you can have just as much relaxation and enjoyment from going to a great restaurant alone and totally surrendering to the experience.
Make a pledge now to join the Eat Mindfully and Alone club. Actually, that sounds like a fine New Years Resolution.
Visit my blog at www.rebeccamarmaduke.com. "
I found it on Allrecipes.com
